A/N: This is my very first FFVIII fic, so please go a little easy on me. I wrote this fic months ago, and I never planned to post it, but I just couldn't stop thinking about it, so here it is. This takes place after Adel's seal is broken, but before the attack on the Lunatic Pandora.

Disclaimer: FFVIII and all characters, places, etc. mentioned hereafter are property of Square, all rights reserved. This story is written neither to steal those rights nor to offend or profit, and any similarities between my work and that of any other fan-author's is purely coincidental. Only the character Roland Etuere is my property.

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"You Have To Accept Injustice"

By The Last Princess of Hyrule

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Our world is going backward.

Think about it. Everything we do that is bad—all the hatred and bloodlust we create—our society reveres. Everyone tries to be bad, badder, the baddest. We kill for money, for revenge, or simply to prove we can. We poison our bodies with drugs to impress our peers, and because the sickening distortion they create makes us "fun."

Murderers walk among us on the streets, and we pass them without a second glance. Your boss has a dark side not present at PR meetings, a side locked behind doors that no one is allowed to know of. A side bred of evil, of lust, and of violence, released to steal that which is not rightfully given. There are many such men in the world—far too many—but for the sake of what I'm about to tell you, the only one noteworthy works with Dr. Odine in Esthar.

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Squall knew there was something bad about this man as soon as he saw him—the words "Galbadian Scumbag" kept coming to mind. The man introduced himself as Roland Etuere, a high-profile businessman whose exploits recently brought him to the doctor's laboratories. Like everyone else in the world, he had heard of Ellone's powers, and wanted to find a way to use them to make himself rich. Unfortunately, he didn't know how to go about this, and therefore funded Odine's research in order to find a way.

Rinoa didn't seem very impressed by Etuere when he introduced himself to her, and took her hand to kiss it respectfully. Squall noticed she could barely repress her disgust at his touch, which immediately struck him as odd. Rinoa tended to be just as friendly as Selphie toward new acquaintances.

Odine took them on a long tour through the facilities as he briefed them on the status of Adel and the Lunatic Pandora, which had made its temporary home just outside the Esthar city bounds.

For such a small man, Odine set a remarkably fast pace down the halls, leading the group along and talking rapidly in a heavily-accented voice. Quistis followed close behind him, obviously intent on what he said. After her, Selphie and Irvine were far more interested in the things around them than in Odine's speech. Selphie excitedly pointed out every single thing they passed, and Irvine was quick to agree with similar enthusiasm that, indeed, that was the coolest thing he had ever seen. Zell followed them looking mostly spaced out, not paying attention to anything at all. Squall, Rinoa, and Etuere were last.

Rinoa walked slightly detached from the rest of the group, trying to make sure there was no one close to her. Again, not like the socialite Rinoa at all. Squall wished he could walk beside her and ask her if something was wrong, but her sudden change of character made him hesitate. She looked very uncomfortable being here, so he resolved to ask her about it later.

The disturbing looks that cycled across Etuere's face could have attributed to some of her distress. "Disgusting" was just as prevalent in Squall's perception of the businessman as "scumbag." At first glance, Etuere didn't have the makings of a suspicious person. He looked like the average businessman, with a dark suit, receding hairline flecked with gray, and a pale face lined by fatigue and age. But there was something Squall saw in his gray eyes peering out through heavy bags that indicated Etuere had followed them today on the tour with Odine to pursue interests more than simply glorified riches.

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Despite Squall's suspicions, the day passed uneventfully, and the group went back to the Ragnarok later that evening without suffering anything more remarkable than Odine's long-winded lecture. Not that it wasn't an important lecture, but one that, in Squall's opinion, they could have done without. They learned absolutely nothing worthwhile that afternoon as far as he was concerned.

At dinner, Rinoa was back to her old self, still troubled by her newfound sorceress powers, but talking and laughing animatedly over conversation about Odine's funny accent. Squall sat across from her and didn't say anything, watching her feeling even more confused than before. By the end of the tour of the laboratories, he was certain there was some connection between Etuere and Rinoa, though the two exchanged no words.

A couple times during dinner, Rinoa caught Squall's gaze and held it. She didn't speak, but he didn't need her to. Just like with Etuere, he could see in her eyes that things were not as right as she led on. As with Adel, their trip to Esthar had unlocked another something that wasn't meant to be free.

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Rinoa went to bed right after dinner, complaining of an upset stomach. She apologized multiple times for being unable to discus with everyone the information they had learned from Odine, and what plan of action to take against the Lunatic Pandora.

Despite protest, Squall too excused himself from the discussion. He knew what everyone would think about this "coincidence," but he decided to ignore it. They probably thought that already whenever he and Rinoa were out of a particular room at the same time.

Squall didn't go very far from the ship's bridge before he started wondering what he was doing. For all he knew, he could have been blowing the entire thing out of proportion. Rinoa might have simply been in a nervous mood that afternoon for reasons unrelated to Etuere. Dinner might have left her with a stomach ache after all, and Etuere might not have had anything to do with anything. Squall opened the door to the empty passenger bay, still unsure what his next move would be, when someone called his name and decided for him.

"Squall, is that you?" Rinoa sat in one of the seats by the windows looking out at Esthar, and hadn't bothered to see who entered.

"I'm here," he answered, walking up beside her.

"Okay."

Rinoa didn't say anything more. The sun had set, and above the city lights, the brightest stars were struggling to shine through. The waning moon sat right on the Great Planes of Esthar, just starting to rise from the far horizon where the sky and Earth met.

"It's a lot simpler in space," she said after a long time, still looking outside. "I was thinking about that in Dr. Odine's lab today. Space is so big you'd never have to meet another person if you didn't want to. It just goes on and on—the sun and the moon don't ever rise or set. It's kind of like time doesn't exist out there. All you have to do is breathe and keep on living."

"Rinoa, was something bothering you this afternoon?" asked Squall before he knew he had voiced the constant question on his mind. "You seemed to know that man, Etuere."

"You know, maybe time doesn't exist out there in space. It didn't feel like it. Wouldn't that be something?" Rinoa tried to smile, but it didn't convince Squall. Even though she wasn't looking at him, her eyes gave it all away.

"Who was he?"

The smile slowly faded from her face. "It would be easier without time. Things couldn't happen. It's annoying when things start to happen and you can't control them."

Squall knelt beside her and rested his hand on the arm of the chair. Rinoa noticed the movement out of the corner of her eye, and suddenly laughed aloud. "Squall, are you worried about me? Wow, now that's really something. You've just been full of surprises lately." She covered her mouth to stifle her giggles unsuccessfully.

"Rinoa . . ." Squall reached out and touched her arm. Her shaking laughter shifted into trembling sobs, and her hands moved up over her eyes as the tears she had been struggling to hold in poured down her cheeks.

"Without time, there isn't any past, or present, or future for things to happen in. Things just wouldn't happen when they're not supposed to happen."

"What things?" he insisted. "What happened?"

Rinoa uncovered her eyes, and for the first time since Squall entered the room, she looked at him. "I'm sorry, Squall. I really tried to be strong for you, but I'm just not good enough."

Squall took her wrists and held her hands away from her face before she could hide behind them again. This wasn't Rinoa—it couldn't be. She was the last person he would have thought who'd say such things about herself. Suddenly, he couldn't read the emotions behind her eyes, as he'd had so little trouble doing before. Rinoa's personality always read like an open book, but now, she seemed to be someone completely different.

"No." Rinoa closed her eyes and hung her head. "No, no, no. I'm not good enough for you. I'm so disgusting. I can't lie to you anymore—I can't."

"How can you say that? What do you mean?"

Rinoa cried harder. "It was only one time. He said I wasn't worth any more than that. I wasn't ever supposed to see him again. I wasn't going to think about this anymore."

"Rinoa, what are you talking about?" Squall asked again, more insistent. Her words filled him with worry, and a strange sense of urgency, as if she were drifting away. He held her wrists and pulled them toward him, not very hard, but enough to feel her presence, to be sure she would not disappear. It wasn't enough force to pull Rinoa out of her chair and throw her on top of him, but it did.

"Etuere," she sobbed, burying her face in the soft fabric of his jacket. "He used to be the financial adviser for my father's estate. There was a party, and . . . and I don't remember everything that happened. I was fourteen, I think . . . It was a going-away party, but I didn't know that. I didn't know anything. People just kept handing me drinks, and I got really tired and went to bed . . . and . . . and he was just getting dressed when I work up." She hid her face deeper, and Squall could feel her tears on his neck.

He tensed with resentment, unable to fully understand what she was telling him. He could hardly fathom how this was affecting her, not only right now, but all these past years. It just seemed utterly impossible—that anyone could do something so horrible as rape a child. What kind of twisted thoughts went through a man's head when he considered it all right to force any child—especially one as innocent and pure as Rinoa—to sleep with him? The thought was absolutely sickening.

Rinoa continued through wracking sobs. "I didn't know what was going on, except that I hurt all over . . . and he was going on about one-night stands. I didn't even know what that meant! He said he was leaving and he'd never be back. He was just "collecting his dues" before he left for Esthar, or so my father told me. I just know they planned this together. My father always hated me. He said I was too free-spirited, like my mother. This was his stupid way of tying me down."

Squall stroked her hair in an effort to calm her down, but suddenly stopped, realizing what he was doing, and how it might have felt to Rinoa. What if she got the wrong idea? He tried to sit up and push her away, thinking his presence was making her uncomfortable, but didn't get very far with her laying on him. She didn't seem to want to move.

"Rinoa, I'm sorry—" he tried to apologize instead, but she cut him off.

"You have nothing to be sorry about. It happened a long time ago. I was just a stupid kid back then, anyway. I shouldn't be getting so worked up about this." She sniffed, swallowing some of her tears. "I don't even remember it anymore. Besides, I'm the one who should be sorry."

Rinoa pushed herself up and supported her weight above him on shaking arms. "I shouldn't be asking this. I mean, I'm all used and broken and disgusting. I know I don't have the right, but I was still hoping . . . wondering . . . if maybe . . . you'll still love me now . . . after all this."

Squall shook his head, looking concerned. The slight look of hope that had slowly come into Rinoa's tear-stained face was crushed the instant it had started to show through. Squall cursed himself. "I can't let you ask me that. You have to be the one to decide. You're the one who was raped. Are you sure you can even be comfortable around me?"

A fresh bout of tears sprung from Rinoa's eyes. "Yes, I can!" she insisted. "I already know that. I don't know how you expect me to act now that I've told you about this. I was fourteen when it happened. Things were bad at first, but eventually I figured out that I couldn't just mope all my life, so I carried on and forgot about it. It was a terrible thing, but I can't do anything to change it, so what's the use in even remembering it?"

Rinoa's words paired with her trembling, fearful visage, however, could not convince Squall that anything was better. He was so shocked by her words that he didn't stop to think about whether or not he loved her. He didn't bother to question the push and pull of the tides in his heart. "Rinoa . . . I can't be with you, and think all the things I do with you are the same things he did."

Rinoa collapsed on him again, sobbing. "You don't understand! When those things happen with people like Etuere, there's nothing you can do but get up and move on. There's no revenge or closure—you just have to learn how to deal. I learned how to deal, and I learned how to trust again, and I learned how to love again. The things that happened to me still affect me, but they're not the only things." She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. "I love you, Squall, and that's stronger than anything I've ever felt."

She nestled against him, her head right beneath his chin. Hesitantly, Squall put his arms around her back. Rinoa didn't even flinch, as he would have expected. It was a lot to take in at once, this new angle on her and the way it affected her. Actually, this angle wasn't new at all. Its existence and its effect on Rinoa had been present even in the first moment Squall met her. After all these years, she hardly seemed bothered by Etuere's presence. It turned out that she was more worried about what Squall would think of her than anything Etuere might do.

She was so scared, even though she seemed so strong outside. But no matter how Rinoa felt about the situation, it did nothing to change the fact that what had happened to her was unforgivable, and such a crime should be met with suitable punishment.

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When Etuere arrived at Dr. Odine's lab at six a.m. the next morning for work, Squall was already sitting on the cold front steps waiting for him.

"Morning," Etuere said, nodding at Squall as he reached him. "The labs are open, you know, if you wanted to get in."

"I'd rather keep this out here." Squall got to his feet.

Etuere stopped. "Excuse me?"

"I'm here on Rinoa's behalf."

"Rinoa?" Etuere searched his memory for a moment, trying to replace the long-forgotten name. "Oh yes, General Caraway's daughter. She was the lady in blue that was with you yesterday, wasn't she? She's grown up fine. Well, it's been years since I saw her, but I don't think I've ever seen you."

"That doesn't matter. You should know very well what this is about."

Etuere gave him a shocked look, then laughed, a laugh that was quickly getting the better of Squall's temper.

"Is she still spreading that stupid rumor about me and the farewell party?" Etuere asked casually. He sighed and shook his head. "I'd have thought she'd given up on that by now. No one's going to believe the lying little bitch."

Suddenly, Squall's temper snapped, and without even thinking about it, he grabbed Etuere and threw him roughly to the ground. As Etuere sat up, all traces of his good humor had vanished, and he glared at Squall with an intensity only a powerful businessman could muster.

"Fighting with me isn't going to solve anything for you," he threatened. "I can easily have you thrown in jail, no matter what pitiful defense you try to make. If you're planning to try to take this further, I hope you know that you stand no chance in my world. If I were you, I'd forget everything that girl told me. There's nothing you can try against me that I can't do back to you tenfold."

With that, Etuere got to his feet, brushed himself off, picked up the briefcase he'd dropped, and strode purposefully into the labs, sporting no more than hurt pride for a brief moment. Squall was left to stand outside, seething with contempt, wishing there was something he could do to fight this injustice, and knowing that Etuere's social status made it impossible. He could only watch helplessly as one of the proud few that are above the law walked away to better a life he didn't deserve.

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Our world is going backward.

Why are heinous criminals allowed to walk so freely among us? Why are they given a privileged existence above the rest of us? All men are created equal, or so say the diplomats, and they are the ones who walk above the rules that govern "all men." If they are not considered men, as men must abide by these rules, then they must think of themselves as gods.

What these men do when away from the eyes of society, when behind closed doors, is their business. It stays hidden, like truths behind a politician's lies, locked away for all eternity. Even we who have been wronged must suffer injustice without hope of retribution, because power, money, and position rule this world, and that is what these men possess.

Equal rights, freedoms, and opportunities for all. These have never existed in all reality. Democracy is worse than hierarchy in this respect—at least those of the hierarchy openly admit their superiority to the common man. The wronged have no power to affirm their injustice for due payment, and yet hope in futility that someday things will change. They suffer while those who wronged them preach of good will toward all.

Our world is a very backward place, don't you think?

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